


Self-Control

by chashmish



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Injury, M/M, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chashmish/pseuds/chashmish
Summary: “Life debt,” Akira repeated, smiling widely. “That means you owe me your life.”“I’m aware,” Goro said, resigned, “of what it means.”





	Self-Control

In the woods he knew well, just past the witching hour, Goro Akechi awoke.

Blearily coming to life, wincing as he tried to move, he came to the slow, muddled realization that he had never really been completely asleep. The past few hours had passed in a haze of half-consciousness, bleary oblivion interrupted by brief periods of almost-awareness. It was difficult to not feel disoriented.

He could sense the moon before he even saw it, hanging low in the sky.

Goro tried to sit up, back rubbing the trunk of the tree he was leaning against. It was only then that he felt the sharp pain in his ribs, a stinging sensation that made him hiss involuntarily. He looked down and was startled to see a thick bandage wound tightly around his torso.

“Oh, good morning,” someone said, the voice breaking the silence of the night.

Goro’s eyes snapped open. He almost let himself shift, on guard and ready to pounce, but stopped short when he saw that the person with him was not a force that could be overcome with so convenient a thing as brute strength. No, Goro realized, irritation coming over him as his eyes raked over the pale hands, the wiry frame, the tousled hair and the half-smirk on the speaker’s face, to get the better of this one required another kind of power.

“You,” said Goro.

“Me,” Akira confirmed. The moonlight illuminated his figure. He was lying on his side with his face turned to Goro, using his bulky sweater as a pillow and looking annoyingly relaxed. As usual, his dark clothes made his skin seem all the paler. His gray eyes blinked lazily at Goro. “I was just waiting for you to wake up. You’re in pain? I should apply the salve.”

“Why are you here?” Goro said, and for the first time he became aware of how he was dressed– in nothing but some worn, ill-fitting sweatpants. “And why am I wearing these?” He grimaced; the outburst had made the pain burn anew.

“I’m here because I found you. And those are from Takemi’s closet. Don’t worry, you look just as dashing as always,” Akira replied absently. He had sat up and turned away, rummaging for something in a threadbare satchel.

Faintly, Goro remembered. Hands lifting him, hair matted with someone’s blood, the room with the dimmed lights, indistinct voices blurring together. And before that, in the clearing, the rush of blood when he lunged, still in the form he knew best. The thrill of an opponent, the yearning to hurt. The force of the blow that knocked him to the ground and torn out a piece of his torso. But just before it all faded to nothing– the soaring feeling of triumph.

So despite his wounds, he had come out the victor. Goro relaxed a little, but forced himself back on the defensive immediately. It was not yet time to let his guard down.

“You found me unconscious,” Goro said.

“Correct!”

“And you took me– ” Goro said, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. “You took me to one of your kind?”

“Not my kind,” said Akira. He found what he was looking for in the bag and stood up, grinning at Goro before taking a step closer.

“Then who–” Goro stopped. It was unthinkable. “A _human._ ”

“Crazy, huh?” Akira said amicably. “Some of them actually are good for things, sometimes. Oh, uh-uh.” This was directed at Goro’s attempt to lean forward. Akira knelt back down, took hold of his shoulders and pushed, gently, until Goro was forced back against the tree. He smiled broadly at him. “Just relax, wolf.”

Goro gnashed his teeth. There was no way he could comply with that request. If he had strength enough, he’d have Akira cornered in a second, but as it was, his wound had weakened him. All he could do was wait and attempt to minimize damage as much as possible.

He didn’t think Akira would try to harm him; he wasn’t dangerous in that sense. It was just that accepting his help might prove more lethal than any injury Goro could incur.

“You were pretty banged up when I found you,” Akira sang. “So still I almost thought you might be dead. I saw the other guy, though, and he was… well.” A smirk. “He was worse.”

 _I should hope so._ Goro tried to remember the feeling of ripping at the other wolf’s throat. It was someone he didn’t recognize, but it was undeniable that they were from his pack, shared his blood. They’d probably never known Goro, only heard the tales of his prowess and the whispers about his betrayal. A low, savage smile overtook his face. That wolf had died realizing the stories of Goro’s strength were true.

Akira was watching his expression with interest. “Do you like killing?”

“I happen to enjoy not being killed,” said Goro.

Akira laughed, wild and unbridled. “Well, I can certainly understand that.”

Akira leaned over him and began the process of unspooling his bandages. Goro tensed at the manhandling. “So,” he said, evening his tone, “you’ve taken to fraternizing with humans?”

Akira’s long fingers were cold against his skin. “You ask so many questions. I _utilize_ them. I’m sure you understand that there’s no point in ignoring a resource that’s available to you.”

Goro scoffed dismissively. “They’re barely worth manipulating.”

“And yet one of them treated this nasty little bite,” Akira commented. He got the last of the bandage off and put it away, and now Goro could assess the damage. An ugly laceration running from just below his heart to his stomach, stitched to hold. It was possibly the worst wound he’d suffered, Goro thought, feeling a little proud.

“She’s a good ally to have, you know,” Akira continued, still on about the human medic. “Treats all kinds, even if the townspeople give her shit for it. Anyway, don’t you have something else to say? _Thank you,_ maybe? I carried you all the way to town and then all the way back here. It was very romantic. Plus, now I’ve seen you naked. So what base is that? Second? Third?” There was an audible _clink_ when he took the cap off the medicine bottle.

“You carried me,” Goro repeated, and hissed at the sudden, cold sensation of the salve that Akira had just applied to his wound.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Akira’s hands ghosted over stitched-up skin. “I’m very strong, Goro. Strong enough to lift an entire unconscious werewolf, even. You went back to this form after you were out for a while, though.”

“Akechi,” said Goro, turning his face away. “That’s what you call me.”

Akira scoffed. “You still want me to use a human name? You should make up your mind.”

“It’s not that,” Goro growled. He remembered the hidden truth that he’d uncovered at the cost of his blissful ignorance, the aching reality of it. He’d found the name buried deep in the old pack records, the only thing left of his mother, too weak to bear the curse his father’s bite had left. And he had left everything behind for her memory. For the honor of a ghost. “It… means something.”

“Really,” Akira said. He had a complicated expression on his face that metamorphosed into his usual smirk when Goro’s eyes met his. “Fine, then. You never fail to arouse my interest, _Akechi_.”

“And you mine, Akira.” Goro smiled thinly.

Akira reached back into his bag and retrieved a roll of clean bandages. Goro waited tersely as Akira wrapped another layer of gauze around his wound, only moving in response to his wordless, instructive gestures. He’d expected Akira to gloat more about having Goro at his mercy, but he seemed focused on his task. _No, that’s wrong,_ Goro thought. The gloating, or worse, would come later.

Later came when Akira had finished tending his wounds. “Now that that’s done–” Akira sat back on his haunches, looking like a human child patiently waiting for playtime. “I think it’s time we talk about your life debt.”

“Pardon?” said Goro, pretending he hadn’t heard.

“Life debt,” Akira repeated, smiling widely. “That means you owe me your life.”

“I’m aware,” Goro said, resigned, “of what it means.”

It was just as he’d expected. Nothing came without a price. And knowing Akira, knowing what he was, there was only one thing he could possibly want. Goro steeled himself.

“Without me, you’d have perished in these woods, slowly… and gruesomely… and alone,” Akira said, smiling sunnily. “So the least you can do for me is let me taste your blood.”

Goro leaned back and rested his head against the trunk of the tree, turning his eyes heavenward. His hands clenched into fists as something surged inside him. It wasn’t fear; Goro had long been acquainted with things more wildly cruel than Akira could ever hope to be. No, it was the justified fury of a predator who had been duped into submitting. Goro did not take kindly to being anyone’s prey.

Out of instinct, he bared his teeth.

“Oh, dear,” Akira said, grin so wide his own fangs showed. “Did I activate your fight-or-flight response? Though I guess the flight part isn’t fully functional for you. Your kind tend to have more brawn than brains, after all–”

Instantly, Goro’s hand was at Akira’s throat.

It wasn’t even difficult to catch him unawares. Maybe he was already getting his strength back, or maybe Akira had just been careless.

Akira’s breathing was a little faster with Goro’s fingers in a vice around his neck, his cheeks a little flushed. “Aw, come on,” he said. “Down, puppy.”

“I wouldn’t run,” Goro said. “I’m not a coward.”

“I never called you one. Look, you don’t have to play at being the big, bad wolf with me. Aren’t we friends?”

“Friends don’t ask for each other’s blood,” Goro said coolly.

“You’re right,” Akira rasped. “I guess that makes us friends with benefits.”

Goro released him and pushed backwards at his chest. It was a light touch, all things considering, but Akira lost his balance and almost rolled backwards; if he’d been standing he’d have fallen.

He reoriented himself quickly, springing back like a cat. “If you keep that up,” Akira drawled, rubbing at his neck, “I just might get excited!”

“Give me your terms,” Goro said shortly.

“Sure, sure. Let me feed off you, just this once, here and now,” Akira said, tilting his head. “And…”

“And what?”

“I want to see you more,” Akira said. He gestured at him. “In this form.”

Goro opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Why.”

“How long has it been since you were human like this?” Akira said, petulant. “We never even get to talk! If you spend too much time as a wolf, you might get stuck forever, you know.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in talking,” Goro said, purposefully ignoring the rest of his words. Akira didn’t want a _friend._ He didn’t think Akira even had friends. Akira had his prey and he had the objects of his singular, compulsive desire. In just a few minutes Goro would have the honor of falling into both categories.

He was a tremendous bother, a vampire with too much time on his hands who’d appeared just as Goro had found his territory in these woods, on the outskirts of a town that would provide him with shelter and information when he cared enough to shift. He’d made himself known in these parts in ways that struck Goro as at once tremendously inappropriate and unnecessarily risky. And the worst part was though he wouldn’t leave Goro alone, and he was everything that Goro should have hated, Goro couldn’t bring himself to completely dislike his company.

Lately, Akira had become another reason why it was much easier to be a wolf.

“I’m interested in many things,” Akira said casually. He grinned again and looked at Goro.

He was waiting for him.

There was no point in making excuses. He could complain about his injury, but that would be seen through in an instant; that salve had clearly possessed magickal properties that expedited healing, judging from how quickly his pain was fading, and Akira knew what he was asking for wasn’t outside of Goro’s limits. Any deferrals were guaranteed to make Akira hunt for him relentlessly until he agreed to fulfill his part of the agreement.

“If you’re expecting me to degrade myself for a leech,” Goro said cuttingly, “no one can know of this.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of telling the world about what we share.”

“Don’t _fuck with me_ , vampire,” Goro said, spitting the words. “Understand that this is simply– business.”

Akira laughed, low and hungry. “Sorry, wolf, but why should we pretend? This definitely qualifies as pleasure.”

It was so amateurish, the way he never bothered to hide what he wanted, just like the rest of his kind. That was what made him dangerous. He had no discipline.

“So… up you get,” Akira said impassively, standing up himself and folding his arms. “Unless you want me to straddle you.”

There was nothing for it. Slowly Goro rose to his feet, wincing. Akira watched him with an unsmiling, neutral expression, eyes brightly alert, offering no assistance.

When he was upright, Akira took a step forward, until they were almost nose-to-nose.

“I know what you think of me, Akechi,” Akira said, voice soft. “That I’m irresponsible, capricious, that I act only on my whim.”

Goro flinched; it was like he could read his thoughts.

“You know,” Akira said. Something in his gaze had intensified. “This whole time, I could smell you.”

Goro was silent.

A rapturous note entered Akira’s voice. “That’s how I found you. I followed the scent and I saw you lying on the ground. I’d never seen you that still before as a wolf. You were barely even breathing and you were all covered in blood. When I lifted you my hands were covered with it, too.”

There was no forest, no trees, no moon in the sky, nothing except Akira’s low, hypnotic voice and the way he was looking at Goro.

“All the way I carried you, and while Takemi worked I stayed there with her. I never took my eyes off of you, and I never stopped wanting you but that was all I did.” His breathing was ragged. “I just watched. _”_

Slowly, Akira raised his hand and brushed Goro’s hair away from his neck. Goro didn’t move; he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to if he tried.

“Now,” Akira said, voice dropping to a whisper, “aren’t you proud of me, for being able to exercise such impressive self-control?”

Goro closed his eyes, set his jaw, and, in answer, lifted his chin to expose his neck.

He heard a low, amused chuckle, and then Akira’s lips brushed right below his collarbone.

It felt deceivingly gentle, so much of a farce that Goro would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. He remembered: Akira played with his prey. He should have known. It should have been clear that Akira would make this as painful as possible.

Akira dragged his teeth along Goro’s skin as his mouth made its way upwards, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Goro made himself stand still. When he finally paused at Goro’s neck, Goro could feel the warmth of his breath.

Akira placed a hand on Goro’s shoulder to steady himself. And then he _bit._

There was no play, no preamble, when Akira’s fangs broke skin. There was nothing in that moment except the pain that bound them in a sudden, violent connection. For Akira there was pleasure, sure, Goro thought dizzily, but in the taking, not the doing. This was all need, all hunger.

Goro hissed through his teeth, feeling the stinging intensify as Akira soundlessly fed. This was a special kind of torture, with Akira’s fingernails squeezing marks into his shoulder and the heat of his body burning like a distant star and his tonguelipsteeth moving like discordant parts of a malfunctioning machine and Goro’s head was swimming, now, with time seeming to slow down–

It took him a few seconds to notice when Akira had released him. Goro willed his legs to remain standing and his heart to stop racing. His neck felt warmly numb.

When the world came back into focus, Akira was staring at him, saying nothing, gray eyes unblinking.

All of the coquettish playfulness was gone from his face. Blood distorting his mouth and gaze blank and empty, Akira looked like a killer. He looked like the monster he was.

Akira did not move farther away. He did not drop his gaze. Goro could not stop looking at the curve of Akira’s mouth, the fullness of his lips and the cruel red stain of Goro’s blood blurring the edges, running down his chin.

There was something charged between them, something that felt like the anticipation before a kill. Goro knew what was going to happen even before Akira’s mouth was on his.

Goro parted his lips and felt Akira react immediately, shifting closer and gripping Goro’s chin with one hand. His tongue slid into Goro’s mouth and Goro immediately tasted blood, overwhelmingly sharp and metallic. He threaded his hands in Akira’s hair as if desperate for an anchor, and thought of nothing, felt nothing except want. It was obscene, a kiss characterized only by hunger and instinct and _blood_ , for God’s sake, even before Goro’s tongue accidentally swiped at the edge of one of Akira’s fangs.

Goro’s eyes were open in a flash and he shoved Akira away, with less force than before but enough to create a good distance between them.

Akira smiled at him crookedly. It was evident that all at once he had returned to himself, or whatever it was that he pretended to be. “Sooo-rrrry,” he said, singsong. “But you know, I wouldn’t have bitten your tongue off.”

“Your mouth,”  Goro said disdainfully, “was all bloody.” Now Goro’s was, too. He scowled and wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

“So?” Akira mirrored his movement and licked at his own fingers. “It’s your blood.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Goro leaned back and let himself sink down until he was seated once again at the base of the tree. He felt the dead weight of his exhaustion like a blanket around his shoulders.

He half-wished, half-feared that Akira would leave, but instead he only plopped down beside him. As usual he had no regard for Goro’s space and pushed up closer so that they sat shoulder-to-shoulder.

“You tasted different,” Akira said, turning his head to Goro. Goro turned his in kind. He’d never been this close to Akira for so long before.

“Pardon,” Goro replied flatly, looking at him.

“How can I put it?” Akira mused. “It’s like a different flavor of juice or something. That’s how werewolf blood tastes. Now I know.” He sounded extremely satisfied. “Not bad, though. I’m sure I could get used to it.” Some of Goro’s blood was still smeared on his bottom lip.

Goro raised his thumb and swiped it away, easy as anything, pressing the finger to Akira’s lips until Akira opened his mouth. He felt the wetness of Akira’s tongue slide over his finger as much as he felt the weight of Akira’s stare, his eyes never leaving Goro’s until Goro pulled his thumb out of Akira’s mouth with a _pop._

He wiped his hand on the stupid sweatpants.

“Why were you fighting that wolf?” Akira said, voice sounding rougher than usual. He licked his lips.

Goro laughed a little, without humor. “It seems I’m being hunted.”

“Ah. By?”

“My old pack didn’t have a pleasant reaction to my departure. My father was the alpha, after all. I can only assume he’s decided it’s best that I be eliminated.”

“And they almost succeeded,” Akira said casually. “Good thing we’re such good friends. Being alone is dangerous, you know.”

“I manage perfectly well on my own. We aren’t all like your ilk, roaming around the country with a new blood-bag every night.”

“You make me sound like such a commitment-phobe,” Akira protested. “Once I only fed off a single human for a whole month. It was in exchange for–”

“No need to go into specifics,” Goro said through clenched teeth. Knowing Akira, he could guess.

Akira grinned and said coyly, “We could make an arrangement like that, if you’d like.”

"You could go fuck yourself,” Goro said. “If you’d like.”

Akira laughed wildly. “So vulgar! You weren’t like that when I met you.”

“That was before I knew you,” Goro said. He turned his body a little further so he could lean more comfortably against the tree and closed his eyes, waiting until he felt Akira’s head slump against his shoulder.

“You should go,” Goro said. He would have to start heading for home soon, and it was probably best that Akira continued to not know where he made shelter, despite everything.

Instead, Akira slumped all the way down until his head was in Goro’s lap. Goro growled low in his throat and shifted to accommodate him.

“I wonder,” Akira said out of nowhere, “what it’s like to be your prey.”

“If you’d really like to find out,” Goro said, looking down at him with a feral smile, “I’m perfectly willing to show you.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t hunt me,” Akira said flippantly. He grinned up at Goro. “You like me too much.”

Goro imagined knocking Akira to the ground and tearing out his throat with his teeth. Then he thought about pushing him down and kissing him until he could barely breathe.

He was trying to decide which scenario held more appeal when Akira abruptly asked “What are you going to do now?”

There was no need to ask what he meant. Slowly, deliberately, Goro said “I’m going to find my father.”

“Mmm. Gonna kill him?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’ll just make him submit, unveil his weakness to the whole of the pack until he has nothing left but the horror of his humiliation. I suppose it will depend on my mood at the time.”

“Oh,” Akira said. He moved slightly in Goro’s lap and closed his eyes.

Goro marvelled at it, Akira lounging there, deceivingly docile, like some kind of domesticated animal. He must think himself invincible. That, or he was trying to test Goro. _Or_ once again he was acting only on instinct. _Self-control. What a joke._

“When will you leave?” Akira said.

“After the next full moon,” Goro replied. He’d have to prepare, check with his informants and collect supplies for the journey, go back to the dead wolf’s body and look for something that could help him trace the pack.

“And then you’ll be gone,” Akira said. He opened his eyes slowly, dark lashes fanning outwards.

“Then I’ll be gone,” Goro affirmed.

They regarded each other.

“When it’s over,” Akira said suddenly. His eyes were bright. “When you’re done with him– come back to me.”

The pain in Goro’s neck throbbed.

“Since when,” Goro said quietly, leaning over him, “am I yours to command, vampire?” His hair fell over Akira’s face, the ends of it touching his ears.

“You aren’t.” A blank, unsmiling face. He could switch between playful and solemn so quickly it was disconcerting. “I’m just telling you what I want. Besides, you don’t have anywhere else to go, do you?”

Goro thought it over. Since his departure from the pack he’d been aware his return was inevitable. He’d known that he would have to topple his father, for his dead human mother and for his own sake. But in his vision of the future, after that there was nothing on the other side. A bleak, solitary life, perhaps, measured in hunt after hunt, maybe a transition into killing out of boredom.

And here was Akira, who Goro had thought could never hold himself back from he wanted, gazing at him fixedly, waiting for his reply instead of demanding compliance, as if there was something between them other than camaraderie between monsters.

“I’ll think about it,” Goro said.

Akira grinned. “Then,” he said, “I’ll be waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i don't know happy halloween


End file.
